After she had to have her foot amputated the assisted living place where she'd been living wouldn't take her back, not because she'd had her foot amputated but because she was crazy. That wasn't the first time she'd been rejected by nursing homes or assisted living places. So she moved back in with my parents, again, displacing them from the "master" bedroom because that had the easiest bathroom for her to navigate by herself.
My parents gave her a bell...
My wife and I were grandma sitting once while my parents were taking a break, a few thousand miles away in Central America, and I remember my grandma ringing the bell furiously because she was out of cigarettes. We were sure it was something worse when we heard her furiously ringing it and went rushing in.
That was the first and last time I've ever bought cigarettes, a twenty mile round trip to get "her" brand.
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